


Habits don't change (And neither does love)

by JaebirdPikeri



Series: Habitually in love [1]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M rated for reference to sex, M/M, Post-Canon, Takes some fan theories as canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:41:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaebirdPikeri/pseuds/JaebirdPikeri
Summary: After Runaan's death, Ethari has some husbandly habits he can't let go of. One of them clues him in to Runaan's resurrection. A short exploration of their first night back together.Basically I watched Season Three and had a lot of Ethari/Runaan feels so I needed to vent some of them with a reunion fic. Despite the rating, most of it is about the domestic rituals married couples develop and how THIS couple uses them to cope with the uncertainty and separation of Runaan's job.
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (mentioned), Runaan/Ethari, Runaan/Tinker | Necklace Elf (The Dragon Prince)
Series: Habitually in love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812976
Comments: 18
Kudos: 360





	Habits don't change (And neither does love)

Habits don’t die with the people you formed them for.

Ethari still sleeps with his chest uncovered, as though Runaan is going to climb into bed with him and use his heartbeat as a lullaby.

He still only buys red apples, sits on the right hand side of the sofa, stops his hair from covering his ears, makes jewellery in two halves.

And he still looks out of his window first thing when he wakes up, to check on a flower that already sank. Every morning he looks and his heart breaks once more.

Until it doesn’t. Because there is a lily on the surface, bobbing next to Rayla’s and from here he can see the slightly different colour to its glow.

He runs, in his pyjama pants and bare feet and chest, forgetting everything except this crazy hope. He runs so fast he slips and tumbles down a root, losing a horn clip but he _just doesn’t care_ and keeps running.

It’s there. It’s floating. Runaan’s name carved into the petals and shining bright and defiant.

‘I’m dreaming.’ Ethari whispers, trembling. He’s dreamed this dream before and he always wakes up crying. He goes to pinch himself, his nails breaking the surface of his skin in anxiety. Pain, sharp and hot, shakes away the last vestiges of sleep and his own red blood stains the metal.

_Runaan’s alive. Runaan’s alive! RUNAAN’S ALIVE!_

He doesn’t realise he’s yelling it until sleepy-eyed elves come out of their houses to demand the source of the noise. He simply points at the flower and takes up position, waiting by the entrance.

‘Ethari… Come get breakfast… he won’t be home for days.’ Alita, an old friend, suggests, resting her hand on his shoulder.

‘I can’t.’ Ethari shakes his head. ‘I just can’t.’

She gives in, and brings him a coat and a bowl of porridge. He thanks her, wears the coat, eats the porridge without tasting it and _waits_.

And waits.

And…

…waits.

He passes one night without sleep easily. The second is harder. But it isn’t until the third that exhaustion takes his body and his world fades to black.

He wakes to someone moving him and immediately begins to struggle. ‘No… I can’t go home yet… not without him…’ He rasps.

‘Sounds like a lucky man.’ A gloriously familiar voice cracks around the words.

Ethari blinks sleep out of his eyes only for it to be replaced by tears because he’s _home_. He’s back in Runaan’s arms where he belongs; a thinner, scarred Runaan, but _his_ Runaan all the same.

‘You… I…’ Words fail him because such crude tools can’t express the pain of a heart torn in two, the relief of reunion, the sheer volume of love over-whelming him.

‘I love you too.’ Runaan lifts him clean off the ground and kisses him. It tastes _wrong_ , of black magic and strange cooking, but Ethari doesn’t care because underneath that is Runaan’s personal flavour.

Someone sees them through a window and spreads the good news. Everyone crowds, wanting to see the returning hero and hear his tale. Ethari is torn; half of him proud and wanting his brave husband to bask in their admiration, half tormented, wanting them all to _back the hell off_ and let them go home, let Runaan regain his strength and _then_ talk, and to just be _alone_.

He studies Runaan’s face closely. His smile is strained, his eyes twitch when people ask questions and that’s enough. Ethari hates to fight, it’s why he’s a craftsman not a warrior, but he fights for his family.

‘Enough!’ His voice cuts over the crowd. ‘You can hear from him tomorrow.’ He grab Runaan’s hand and pulls him along, glaring down anyone who looks ready to argue.

He can hear Runaan chuckling behind him but he doesn’t turn until the door is safely locked behind them.

‘So fierce, my love.’ Runaan cups his cheek.

‘I can’t protect you from much, but I can protect you from that.’ Ethari’s voice cracks.

‘…I need to explain, don’t I?’

‘Yes. No kind lies to keep me from worrying either. Every single detail.’ Ethari demands, his voice as firm as the steel he works with.

‘Then first…’ Runaan pulls him into a deep _long_ kiss and inclines his head to their room. ‘Please?’

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

First-night-back sex is never the most mind-blowing or vigorous. It’s about re-exploring bodies and getting back into the shared rhythm, about tearful kisses and pressing as much skin to skin as possible, and about reassuring themselves that the other is living and breathing and _there_.

Afterwards, Runaan takes a blanket and curls up on the left side of the sofa and Ethari heats the sweet apple juice and spices it with cinnamon, padding in to join him. They cuddle into each other, sipping their drinks and Runaan begins to talk.

He starts with the first step out of Silvergrove and takes his time, explaining Rayla’s hesitation, the invasion, the egg, his capture, his imprisonment, the mirror, the coin, waking in the home of the Dragon Queen at the hands of Rayla’s human.

‘Did you _know_ about them?’ For once, Runaan breaks out of his story with a question.

‘I did. Callum’s come to dinner with Rayla many times. He’s a good kid.’ Ethari explains gently.

‘He’s _human._ ’

‘He saved your life.’

‘Still… What’s she going to do in a hundred years?’ Runaan frowns.

‘If it’s real, break every day. But love isn’t some beast you can corral. It’s a force of nature and it won’t be stopped.’ The certainty in Ethari’s voice stops Runaan short. For if Ethari demands honesty from his husband, he has to give it in return, and the pain of loss almost killed him too.

‘…We travelled most of the way together, but they had to go straight on. They’re meeting an emissary… Rayla’s a Dragon Guard.’

‘She’s a good Dragon Guard… Don’t skip. What happened when you woke up?’ Ethari pushed.

Runaan returned to his tale, admitting the night terrors that had gripped him the past three nights, the near miss with a soul serpent, the strangeness of the jelly tarts that King Ezran always kept on him.

‘And then… I walked back into the city and saw you sleeping in the dirt, my heart.’ Runaan finishes his story with a kiss to Ethari’s forehead. ‘Now you.’

Ethari’s tale is shorter, but he spares himself nothing. He admits his weakness in ghosting Rayla, his regret when he finally saw her again, hearing of the attack on the Dragon Queen, the reappearance of Viren, the number of lilies crafted and sunk. He admits the every day breaking of his heart and of the assassin sent to cut off the communications at their source. (Runaan breaks the mug in his bare hands but lets Ethari finish.) He tells of the better days; of Rayla being welcomed home with honour, of being introduced to her new friends and first love, of being commissioned to craft an engagement ring for his boyhood friend, Kallihan.

‘And then… I woke and saw the lily again. And I knew that meant you were coming home so I waited… I wanted to be there as soon as you walked in but I fell asleep…’ Guilty tears drench the blanket. Runaan has a tale of honour and courage, Ethari’s feels like one long string of cowardice and failures.

‘You were there. You were the first thing I saw.’ Runaan pulls him into a soft kiss. ‘Thank you.’

The jelly taste has been replaced with apple juice but there’s still the lingering bitterness of dark magic, its taint still tormenting Runaan, mind and body.

‘I love you, now and always.’ Ethari swears, pressing close to his husband’s body. ‘Thank _you_ , for bringing my heart home.’

Runaan smiles, until he yawns and the joy drains out of him. ‘…I’m afraid to sleep.’

‘Then come with me… I’ll wake you if the nightmares return.’ Ethari promises, kissing the crease in his brows to smooth it out.

They return to the bed. Runaan rests his head on Ethari’s chest, focussing on the steady percussion within. Ethari gently plays with the silky white hair spreading out across Runaan’s shoulders and kisses the top of his head.

‘Goodnight, my beloved.’

Runaan smiles sleepily at him. ‘Goodnight, my hero.’

Ethari ignores the tired itch in his own eyes, laying awake and keeping watch, soothing or waking Runaan at each whimper and cry. It’s a different kind of pain, laying awake and watching the man he loves in agony, helpless to do more than offer slight comfort. It’s worthwhile though when, as dawn breaks, Runaan _finally_ settles into an easy sleep for a few hours.

Ethari holds his ground until Runaan wakes. Greeting him with a kiss and a firm. ‘Breakfast in bed this morning, my turn to cook.’

‘Ah… But I haven’t had to cook for myself in moons, and you have every single day.’ Runaan attempts a joke but it’s too soon. The reminder of his husband, starving and trapped brings tears to Ethari’s eyes.

‘ _My_ turn to cook.’ He insists, voice cracking.

Runaan nods, holding him closer. ‘I’ll be here when you get back my love.’

It isn’t the best breakfast Ethari’s ever made. Despite his best efforts, his hands shook too much to beat the eggs evenly and the omelette is a little lumpy, he’s over sugared the fruit and scalded the tea in his impatience.

‘I should have just let you cook.’ He admits, bringing it in.

Runaan sets the tray on their bedside drawers and pulls Ethari onto his lap, bundling him in blankets. ‘You know I like tradition… You’re always too tired to cook well the first morning I’m back. Why is it so upsetting this time?’

‘Because. Nobody’s given you a decent meal since you left and I _still can’t_ , I can’t fix _any_ of it and-’ Ethari draws in a shuddery breath. ‘And now… You’re going to feel like you have to comfort _me_ , even though I’m the weakling elf who couldn’t even fight at your side and-’

He’s cut off by the air rushing from his lungs as he’s thrown down and kissed within an inch of his life; literally left gasping for air afterwards.

‘Don’t you _dare,_ ’ Runaan snarls _right in his ear for the moon’s sake_! ‘speak of yourself like that again.’ He draws back, pinning Ethari’s wrists and head so he can’t look away or cover his face or break the intense eye contact; ocean staring into sand. ‘Weak? Who crafted magic to connect our people all over the world, ending the cycle of wounds that cannot heal because you don’t know? Who fought off a trained assassin with no weapons to hand, and had to do so because he was judged so damn valuable in the war effort? Who went without sleep for two days, simply so his husband could come home to his face? Who proceeded to stay up _again_ for the sake of his nightmares? You are skilful, courageous, loyal and tender. I adore you and I will never stand for _anyone_ bad-mouthing you, even yourself!’

Ethari’s crying freely by now because it’s been so long since he felt _protected_ by Runaan and shameful as it is for a Moonshadow Elf he _loves_ that feeling. The arms pinning him move to encircle him and he wraps his legs around Runaan’s waist and cries into his chest, letting all the pain and fear run free.

They eat cold omelettes when the tears are done, tangled up in each other.

‘I have to face them soon… I don’t know how much to tell.’ Runaan confesses softly.

‘There isn’t much _to_ tell. You completed your mission, you refused to bend to torture, you were imprisoned in a dark spell and now you’re home. That’s all you _need_ to tell, any embellishment is your choice, not their right.’ Ethari insists firmly.

Runaan gives him an amused look. ‘You call yourself weak; yet you’re pretty unyielding.’

‘That’s not real courage, just blind love.’ Ethari rolls his eyes. ‘Which you well know you little peacock, you just want me to tell you.’

‘I do love your confessions…’ Runaan agrees, holding him closer. ‘But I’d also like you to stop underselling yourself.’

‘I’m not-’

‘Yes you are. You didn’t do this before.’ Runaan frowns.

‘You’re right. I always thought I might not be a warrior but I came through for my family. Well… That was wrong.’ Ethari chokes on the words.

Runaan misunderstands. ‘Eta, even if you’d been the best warrior in Xadia you couldn’t have protected me this time. He was too slimy.’

‘No… I couldn’t have protected you… But I could have protected our daughter.’ Tears, more tears, like he’ll never dry out. ‘I could have spoken up for her instead of getting swept up in a spell she didn’t deserve. I was just so _angry_ I didn’t care who I blamed and she was an easy target. I should have been relieved; I could have lost you and Rayla at once but I had a chance to keep her and I threw it away. I can _never_ un-do that moment she came home and realised I’d ghosted her too. I… I haven’t seen that much pain in her eyes since she lost her parents.’ He does hide now, because he can’t bear to see if Runaan is finally seeing him as the weak coward that he is. He cannot even face that. ‘ _I_ caused that.’

‘…When Rayla and I spoke on the journey… She didn’t even mention you being part of the ghosting. When she talked about you… She told me how you fought the elders to get her reinstated, how welcome you made her human friends in our home, how you made equipment for everyone she wanted to keep safe without charge… She didn’t speak of rejection, Eta, just the love you gave her. She’s still our daughter, even though her true parents are now free.’

‘They’re _what_?’

‘That didn’t come up last night?’

‘No!’ Ethari stares, a mixture of relief and loss washing over him. ‘I… I’m glad they’re alive but…’

‘She’s still _our_ daughter too.’ Runaan insists, frowning. ‘I made that clear… and it’s what Rayla wants. I’m the one she came to first.’

‘Stop speaking in riddles and explain!’

‘…The black wizard Viren trapped them in coins as he did me.’

‘ _No!_ ’

‘And so we were all freed in the same spell… Apparently they recovered the coins a while ago but they kept quiet until the knew we were free?’ Runaan tilts his head, awaiting confirmation. Ethari grants it with a nod, understanding Rayla’s recent silence.

_She must have been afraid of giving me false hope._

‘…Come on, let’s go get the re-introduction over with… I want to send our daughter a message.’ Ethari kisses Runaan once more.

Runaan smiles and nods. ‘I hope she comes home soon.’

‘You realise she usually brings her boyfriend home these days?’

‘…I better get used to him.’

Ethari finally laughs, letting himself believe it was truly over.


End file.
